Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call?
by n4trix
Summary: Geekfiction Halloween Trick or Treat challenge... spooky? No. Scary? No. Dumb? Yes! Read it anyway! Pairing is JAR, folks... yup, you guessed it. Judy and Archie.


**Title**: Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call?  
**Pairing**: JAR (that'd be Judy/Archie, folks)  
**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. No money was made from this story.  
**Rating**: PG with a dash of a swear word.  
**Prompt**: You need to have someone singing: "There's children throwing snowballs / instead of throwing heads / they're busy building toys / and absolutely no one's dead!" (From the Nightmare before Christmas) and a fight over the "good candy."  
**A/N**: ROFL, this has to be the dumbest thing I've done in a long time, if ever. Seriously. I procrastinated and put it off and bitched to my friends. This is what you get. Thanks to my friends "C" and Doris. This is for Leslie because she wanted a JAR fic. JAR, bitches: it's the next revolution.

----

"Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call? Can you hold please?"  
"Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call? Just a moment."  
"Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call? _Who?! _Oh, sure… just a moment."

I don't get the chance to converse with many of the people who work here. I mean, sure, we get our 15 minutes around the water cooler every couple of hours, but it's just gossip… nothing meaningful. Now, that's not to say I don't get to _hear _anything interesting… I'm like a fly on the wall, but instead of having wings and buggy eyes, I have a cardigan and a headset. Why a cardigan? It can be 115 degrees outside but the Supreme Overlords of the Crime Lab like to keep the temperature nippy. Something to do with the expensive equipment, I've been told.

So back to what I was saying. I get to _hear_ all the fun stuff. I can live vicariously through other employees. See Bobby D over there? I've _heard _he likes to sing. I've _heard _he likes to hit up karaoke bars off-strip. And I've _heard _he's pretty damn good. I can only imagine the guts it takes to get up on stage, in front of strangers, and sing your heart out. Swaying with the microphone stand, I'd let my voice carry all the way to the street, penetrating the hearts and souls of my audience! I bet I'd be angelic, but strong… the power behind my words would make me feel eight feet tall!

I like to sing. I'm no good, but I still enjoy it. I was with my niece over the weekend, watching one of her favorite movies. She had me singing along with her to every song; it wasn't the first time I'd seen _The Nightmare Before Christmas_. We sat on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn and a box of frozen fruit bars… popping pieces of corn into our mouths during downtimes and using the fruit bars as microphones every time a song broke out.

_"What's this? What's this? There's something very wrong. What's this? There are people singing songs. What's this? The streets are lined with little creatures laughing. Everybody seems so happy. Have I possibly gone daffy? What is this? What's this?" she'd belt out at the top of her little lungs. I knew it was my turn when she held the fruit bar to my face, not intending to share it._

"There are children throwing snowballs, instead of throwing heads. They're busy building toys and absolutely no one's dead!—"  
  
"Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call? He isn't in today, do you want his voicemail? Ok, one moment please."

I really like Halloween. It's one of the few holidays where I can decorate my desk and not get in trouble. The other woman I share the desk with has an attitude problem… she's a true holiday grinch. And I'm not just talking about fall/winter holidays. She's an equal opportunity grinch, leaving no holiday un-spoiled. Except for Halloween, of course. I have mini jack-o-lanterns up and little black cats, arched in fright. I even have cobwebs up and thanks to Dr. Grissom, they're biologically correct. I got an earful about the inaccuracies last Halloween…

_"Judy, you know those cobwebs aren't accurate, right?"_

"…No, sir. I just threw them up there. They're just decoration—"

"That shouldn't matter. You could have at least asked me for some help."

Is this guy for real? Uptight son of a—

"Sure, Dr. Grissom," I said as I forced a smile. "What needs to be changed?"

"Well the spiders you have living in that web don't create spiral webs like that. They prefer to construct…"

I learned my lesson from last year, trust me. I had the appropriate arachnids in their appropriate cobweb establishments. In fact, I'd place a bet on my spooky cobweb delight being the most accurate in all of Nevada. Of course, it helps to have an obsessive compulsive entomologist in the same building. Speaking of Dr. Bug (that's what I like to call him when no one else is around); he's been in a great mood as of late. I wonder if he's finally gotten lai---

"Las Vegas Crime Lab, how may I direct your call? …No, this is the Crime Lab. _Crime Lab_. Sir, can you hear me? Sir? This is the Las Vegas Crime Lab… _Criiiiiiiime Laaaaaaaab_. Lime cab? Is this a prank call? Hello? …Sir, hello?"

No one has touched the cookies I baked. They're little sugar cookies with orange and black frosting. I even added little black M&Ms for the eyes. Well, at least they're not lonely. Dr. Robbins baked some ghoulish snicker doodles… I don't know if people are scared of them or if people are _scared_ of them, but they've gone untouched too. To be honest, I don't think I'd eat anything he made. Don't get me wrong, Dr. Robbins is a sweetie-pie, but his culinary skills… well that and he works in a _morgue_. I just don't think he should be cooking for the living, that's all.

"Greg, put the bag down! I'm serious, man, give it back!"

"No way, dude, she gave them to _me_. See? It says 'To Greg: Happy Halloween! Love, Sara' – no 'Nick,' no 'Warrick,' just me."

"C'mon man, you _know_ those are my favorite. Look, I'll trade you. Next three decomps are mine for that bag of candy."

They both stopped in front of my desk and looked as if they were going to deal.

"Oh wow… three? Just for this candy? Hmm… must be some _good_ candy, huh? Lemme think about it."

"_Greg_… offer isn't on the table for long. Man, I'm _hungry_… c'mon."

Nick sure was a whiner sometimes. If I were Greg, I'd---

"No deal, Nick. These babies are all mine!"

"Greg! Damnit!"

And that's when disaster struck. They're both pretty strong guys and that little bag of candy didn't have a snowball's chance in hell, for not soon after the deal was rejected, a not-so-gentle rainfall of candy corn pelted them, me, my desk, the glass wall to my left and Archie, the innocent bystander.

"Oh man, look what you _did!_" Greg sounded like a fifth grader… one about ready to run to the nearest teacher and tattle tale on Nick. I'll save them…

"Don't worry guys," I soothed as I picked pieces of candy out of my hair. "I'll call facilities." I gave them a quick, yet polite grin as I shook more pieces of candy off of my blouse. I quickly punched a couple keys and had facilities on the line. "Hey Chuck? We have a bit of a mess down here at reception. What? No! No, nothing dead. Uh huh… no, nothing liquid, either. What is it?" I looked sheepishly at the two criminalists. "Just candy, Chuck. Easy cleanup, but it's _everywhere_. Yeah… yes. Thanks, Chuck!"

"Thanks, Judy, you're a lifesaver." I felt like Nick would have hugged me if I hadn't been safely behind the reception desk.

"No, I'm a candy corn! See?" I threw a piece of candy corn in his direction. See? I can be funny when given the chance---

"Ahh… don't quit your day job, Judy."

"Yeah, thanks again!" 

I waved a polite "g'bye" to the guys and resumed removing all forms of candy from my person. This stuff gets everywhere, doesn't it? Yeah, and what do they know anyway? They don't know how funny or nice or caring or fun I can be. Really! Oh great, _just great_… there's corn in my bra. How am I going to get this _out_?! If I just twist this way… no, maybe wiggle like this…---

"That was pretty funny."

I don't want to look up. No no no no _no_, I'm not looking up. Besides, I've almost… got it… _there_!

"Judy?"

Ok fine, look up.

"Hi, Archie." _Ohmigoddddhe'sactuallytalkingtome_.

"Did you uh… did you get it all?"

"Get all of what?"

"The candy corn." Ok what? He's starting at my chest now. Wait… _he's staring at my chest now_. Jesus! "Oh… right… that! Yeah, got it all." I smiled and held up the offending brazier diver as proof.

"Oh! Great!" And before I knew it, the bra dwelling piece of sugar and wax was gone, off and meeting its demise in Archie's scrumptious little mouth. "Got anymore where that came from?"

Did he just waggle his eyebrows at me? **_Did he???_**

"Oh… I, uh… sure?"

"Cool!" I could very well just die right now. Right here where I sit, amongst the biologically correct cobwebs, the untouched cookies, the misplaced candy corn… is he staring at my chest again?

"Archie?" Yep, eyes glued to my chest. "Archie!" Shit, I'm blushing. 

"Trick or treat?"

What? "What??"

"Trick. Or. Treat, Judy? Pick one."

This better not be some sort of sick "pick on the lonely receptionist" joke—"Treat."

He's fast, I'll give him that, because before I knew it, his upper body is up and over the desk and his lips are on mine, stealing my breath and making my heart explode. I have _never_ been kissed like that, _ever_, and then, before I knew it, his lips were gone with an audible "smack."

"I… um…" What the… I can't form a complete sentence now?

"Good choice, Judy." He grabbed one of my cookies, winked and bit into it. "Hey, these are pretty good!" he said as he jogged back to the A/V lab.

At least _somebody_ likes them.

**END**

_Told ya it was retarded... ;)_


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